Following in his Footsteps
by ErinisMagic
Summary: Hiccup and Astrid have long since realized that they don't quite agree on how their daughter should be raised. They both want what's best for her, but what would that be? She, however, has figured that out for herself and is intent on keeping her secret life away from disapproving eyes. It's going well, until a mysterious new rider arrives on Berk, and everything falls apart.
1. Introduction

This is Berk.

Rocky, hilly, icy, full of steep cliffs popping up at you where you'd least expect them, it's the exact opposite of the kind of place you'd want to be if you were me. Still, it's home. It's more than that, actually; it's the only place I've ever known. Dad might have gone out exploring the other islands when he was younger, but not me. I'm not allowed off the island. In fact, I'm not even allowed out of the house.

My name is Kata, by the way. Daughter of Chief Hiccup and Astrid Haddock, and local blind girl.

You may be thinking that life's good for me, being so closely related to the Pride of Berk. Well, it's not. I mentioned not being allowed out of the house, right? It's not an exaggeration, I am _literally _not allowed out of the house. Half the time, I'm not even allowed out of my room.

Okay, I shouldn't say it like that. Saying like that makes it seem like my parents are abusive or something. It's just that they don't want to see me get hurt. I can understand their worries (Berk isn't exactly the safest place, even with working eyes), but keeping me locked up inside has driven me absolutely batty.

I complain about it, a lot, to Dad. He wasn't allowed out much as a kid, either. He says he understands, but I don't think he does. He had an apprenticeship with Gobber, and he had that book he was always making sketches in. Me, I've got nothing. I can't read, I can't draw, and I can't leave the house. Sometimes Dad makes things for me, like instruments and stuff, but they only keep me entertained for a little while. After all, wouldn't you get bored playing the flute all day every day?

Even so, playing the flute is better than listening to The Fights. The Fights started when I was young, when Dad had one idea about how I should be raised and Mom had another. They aren't anything relationship shattering, but I do hate hearing them yell at each other. Every night, right after dinner, there's something new for them to argue about. Dad thinks I should be let out of the house, but Mom says no. Mom thinks I should learn how to fight, but Dad says no way. Dad thinks I should get a dragon, but Mom starts screaming that if I can't see, how could I stay safe on the back of a dragon? Dad shouts back that if that's true, then her ideas seem even worse. Who in their right mind would teach a blind girl how to fight? Mom gets offended and argues that, by that logic, his ideas are the worst of all. You'd have to be insane to let a blind girl out into a village of aggressive, rash Vikings on the backs of fire-breathing dragons, to which Dad responds that it wouldn't be a problem if I had a dragon of my own.

Sometimes I don't think they realize that I'm blind, not deaf.

After that night's Fight is over, Dad or Mom will come upstairs and keep me company for a while. Mom always tells stories of the amazing battles she won, soaring through the sky with Stormfly, never once getting hurt. When Dad comes up, he talks about me.

"I know you're not happy," he says. "When I was your age, I wasn't, either. But your mom will come around. You just need to be patient, that's all."

After their stories are finished, Mom and Dad apologize to each other for The Fight.  
Once they've done that they fly their dragons, or they go straight to bed. I always stay up for a while, thinking about how nice it must feel to be as free as them.

-§-

When Dad was my age, he snuck out and trained a dragon.

You'll be glad to know that those little hobbies run in the family.


	2. One

The sun is warm on my face when I wake up. I get out of bed and make my way to the window, just like I do every sunny morning. I stick my hand outside and feel a light breeze. The air is nice: not too hot, not too cold. Perfect for flying.

"Mom?" I call out. "Dad?"

"Down here!" Dad calls back. I hear him come up the stairs, his metal foot squeaking slightly. "Morning," he greets as he comes into my room.

"Morning," I say back. He crosses over to me, wrapping in a hug. If I stand on my tiptoes, I can lean my head against his shoulder. He smells like sea-spray. He smells like fish, too, but everyone around here smells like fish so I usually just ignore it.

"Your mom's out flying," he says when we pull apart.

I nod, and know that he desperately wants to be out flying, too. I can hear it in his voice and tell him as much.

"No, of course not!"

"You're lying. I know you want to go." He sighs at that, and I know that I've got him. "I'll be fine by myself for a few hours," I say.

He hesitates, then, "Well..."

"You haven't flown Toothless in ages, Dad. He wants to go just as much as you do." I smile and look up to where I'm relatively sure my father's face is. He chuckles and tilts my head up a bit. I laugh, too, because for whatever reason I always think that people are shorter than they actually are. It might be because I'm short, myself.

"You're sure you'll be fine on your own?"

"Positive. It's not like I haven't been home alone before."

He runs a hand through my hair, which I, unlike most others on Berk, prefer to wear down. It's not like I have any sort of resentment bubbling for braids, though, I just prefer it loose. "You'll be careful?" he asks, and his voice is so full of worry and love that it makes me want to throw myself off a cliff for doing what I'm about to do. Still, I smile and lie flawlessly. "Of course."

He kisses the top of my head and I pray to Odin that he leaves soon; I'm on the verge of guilty tears already.

Luckily, the Gods are merciful. "Do you need anything before I go?"

I hold in a sigh of relief. "Yeah... where are my boots? I don't remember taking them off."

"They're over by the door," he says, taking my arm and leading me a few steps.

I pull out of his grasp, saying "It's fine. I've got it," and walk to the door myself. Once my hand touches the door frame, I drop to a crouch and feel around for my boots. Sure enough, they're there, so I grab them and put them on.

Dad comes up behind me and sighs. There's a lot of emotion behind the sigh, but I can't decipher any of it. "I'll be back soon."

"And I'll be here," I reply, listening as he goes down the stairs. The door creaks open, then bangs shut, and I count to fifty just to be sure. I don't hear another sound, so I creep down the stairs, counting each step, and over to the door. I put my ear against it, just in case someone is coming up the path, but again I hear nothing.

The door is heavy, and I have to push against it with my whole body, but once I get it open I'm flooded with warm sun and fresh air. It'd be nice to stay and enjoy it, but I've got places I need to be. I pull the door shut, feel my way around the house, and run straight into the forest. I know the path well enough to not fall, but I do stumble once or twice. The trees cover the forest in a cool shade, and I walk a few steps in before stopping and whistling lowly. Bot, as usual, comes running.

Bot is my dragon. He's small (just big enough for me to ride), quick, and not from around here. He got blown in by a huge storm a couple years back. I was sitting in my room, listening to the wind howl outside, when I suddenly heard claws scrabbling at my windowsill. I went over to investigate and found myself with an armful of wet and terrified dragon. I hid him under my blanket until the next morning, then snuck him into the forest when my parents were out. He's been my best friend ever since.

Bot has a line of curled spikes down his back. I place my hand on the one on his neck and tell him, "Clearing, Bot. Go."

He's smart, my dragon; he knows exactly where to take me. He leads me there, helping me dodge trees and branches, chirping whenever there's something on the path that I might trip over. He stops and chirps again to tell me that we've reached the clearing, but I already know. The sunlight is unobstructed here, and it pours down over us, making everything seem better.

"Bot," I say, resting my hand on his head, "Look up. Are there any dragons in the sky?"

He nods.

"How many?"

Two small roars.

"A Night Fury and a Nadder?"

He nods again, and I pet his head.

"Watch them for me, okay bud? Tell me if they go to land?" He chirps an affirmative, and I throw my arms around his neck. "Thank you," I whisper. He twists around in my embrace and starts licking me, his tongue dragging over my cheek. I giggle and try to pull away, but he tackles me to the ground and playfully pins me, continuing to lick me to death.

"Bot!" I cry, shrieking with laughter. "You know that doesn't wash out!" Bot laughs too, in the way dragons laugh. He lets me back up and nuzzles me for attention, which I am more than happy to give. I scratch his forehead, causing him to purr loudly as he pushes his head up against my hand. I switch to stroking his neck, thinking that it really is such a beautiful day. It'd be a shame to waste it.

Bot's nearly shaking with excitement as I climb onto his back. "Stay under the trees," I tell him. Then, just like that, we're off.


	3. Two

Kata was right, Hiccup thinks as he and his dragon soar through the air. It _had _been ages since he and Toothless had flown like this. He tried to fly Toothless everyday, but he always seemed to be so busy being chief that they never managed more than a quick spin around the island, usually while Hiccup was surveying for trouble. Sometimes, he didn't even have the time for that, and Astrid had to fly for him. But now, there is nothing that Hiccup needs to do, so he and his dragon can enjoy the kind of flying they had before.

The sun beats down upon the pair as they climb into the sky, free as birds. The wind rushes through Hiccup's hair as he cheers in delight, Toothless mimicking him with an excited roar. Hiccup laughs, contemplating jumping off and flying on his own, but he spots Astrid and Stormfly on the horizon. Talking with Kata that morning, Hiccup realized something, and he wanted to talk to Astrid about it while she was in a good mood.

"Good morning, milady," Hiccup greets sweetly, guiding Toothless close enough for his to lean over and give his wife a kiss.

"Hi," she replies with a smile. Her smile quickly disappears when she remembers Hiccup isn't supposed to be flying. "Did you leave Kata home alone?"

Hiccup sighs, although he understands why Astrid is mad. He would be too, if she had been the one to leave Kata alone without telling him. "She's fifteen," he says. "When we were her age, we were training to fight dragons! She'll be fine for an hour or two."

Angrily, Astrid pulls on Stormfly's saddle, pointing her towards home. "Wait," Hiccup calls, shooting ahead and blocking her path. "Just hear me out. I know you're worried about her getting hurt; I am too. But keeping such a close eye on her all the time... I think it might be doing more harm than good."

"We'll talk about this later," Astrid said firmly, trying to dodge the black dragon in her path only to find herself blocked again.

"Please Astrid, _listen_. We're only worried about Kata all the time because she's blind, right? We think, if she can't see, how is she going to know that she's walking straight into her bed, or down the stairs or out the window? But she does know!"

The other rider's raised eyebrow lets Hiccup know he needs to explain.

"She doesn't _need _to see, Astrid. She can make her way around her room perfectly fine; she doesn't need directions, or to be led, she knows where everything is. And I think that if we took her into the village once and a while, she'd learn where things are there, too."

"Hiccup-"

"C'mon, just give her a chance. She might surprise you. Besides, she's been home alone before."

Astrid sighs in frustration. "It's not the same," she tells him, but her resolve is weakening. It is, after all, a beautiful morning, and she'd like to spend it flying. She thinks about her daughter, and how utterly lost she and her husband had been raising the girl. Kata was the first blind child on Berk to survive past a few years, so there was no precedence.

Now that she's thinking about it, it makes sense that Kata would know how to move through her room. She's spent nearly her whole life in there, so sight or no sight she should know it pretty well. Still, Astrid isn't sure how safe it is for her to be alone all morning.

Her husband gives her a smile. "Just this once," he says. "If it doesn't work out, then I'll never do it again. I promise."

The silence that follows is maddeningly long. Hiccup bites his lip, desperately wanting his wife to say yes. Seeing Kata navigate her room that morning made him realize that she wasn't as helpless as they thought, and he instantly knew that they were stifling her with their constant supervision. Even though every time he looks at her he sees his precious baby girl, he knows that it's time she gained some freedom.

"Just this once," she says at last, turning to fly off into the clouds. Hiccup's smile broadens until he's grinning ear to ear, and he flies off after his wife.


	4. Three

It's a good morning when my dragon and I get to spend time flying just how we like: low and fast, with lots of twists and turns. To an outsider, it might not seem like the safest activity, the two of us dodging trees and rocks as we zoom along just above the forest floor, but I trust Bot with my life. I know he won't crash, even as he keeps an eye on the skies, and we move completely in sync.

In my mind, I make notes of all the turns we make, and I know that we're coming up on the cove where Dad befriended Toothless. I like the cove; it makes me feel safe. Bot likes it too, especially the lake. I don't know for sure where he lived before he came to Berk, but I'm pretty sure it was someplace tropical. I guess the water reminds him of home.

There are a few sharp turns on the path to the cove, and I tighten my grip on Bot's spine, planting my feet in a firmer stance. You see, the way I ride isn't exactly... conventional. The reasons for this are 1: I don't have a saddle, and I couldn't get one even if I wanted to- I can't make one myself, and asking Dad to build one for me would be admitting I've been sneaking out to see the dragon I'm not supposed to have- and 2: I move more fluidly in what I call my Riding Stance. I keep a hold of the spike on Bot's neck, and plant one foot in the space between the next spike and the one after that. My other foot goes in the space behind that one. My Riding Stance lets me balance perfectly during flight, and I can always feel Bot's movements almost before he makes them.

When we reach the cove, Bot dips down just a bit and begins to circle the area along its rounded walls. I let go of the spike on his neck and straighten up, so I'm not leaning forward like I am in my Riding Stance. I adjust my balance and enjoy the feel of the wind rushing past me. This is why I prefer my hair down: I feel free as it streams out behind me, an effect that isn't quite the same with a braid.

Then, Bot does something I really love. He flies over to the lake and drops in, shooting along just below the surface of the water as fast as he was flying before. I smile wide as I crouch down on his back, stretching out my hands so that my fingers skim the water. I can't explain why I love it so much, but there's something about the wind in my hair and the water under my fingertips that just feels magical. Cliché, I know, but I can't think of a better way to describe it.

We reach the water's edge far too soon for my liking. Bot climbs out, and I dismount so he can shake himself dry. I giggle as tiny drops of water land all over me, not minding one bit; I'm enjoying the sun too much to be bothered by a little water, even if it is a tad cold.

I stretch out a hand and begin to feel my way to the rock I know is towards my left. Almost immediately Bot darts up next to me, nudging my leg until I drop my hand and let him be my eyes. When we reach the rock I lean against it, turning my face up into the warmth of the sun. Bot curls up at my feet, enjoying the weather just like me.

-§-

I'm not sure how much time I've spent on the rock when I feel a webbed paw bat against my leg. Bot's whining, and I instantly know what's happening. "Take me home, Bot," I say, jumping into my Riding Stance just in time for my clever dragon to take off through the forest.

His wings beat fast. Low-lying branches whip at my face as I crouch on his back; this is not the time for worrying about climbing off without a scratch, it's the time for worrying if I'll make it back in time to not get caught. I can hear it now, the thud of boots as they walk into the house, my parents calling for me, the mounting concern in their voices as I don't answer back. There'll be footsteps on the stairs, cries of fear and anger when they find my room empty, and then I'll show up, standing sheepishly on the front step with my forbidden dragon as my parents lecture and scold me into the afterlife.

"Faster boy," I whisper, holding onto hope that we can still beat Mom and Dad back to the house.

Bot does not disappoint, shooting along the forest floor at top speed. I hold my breath, trying not to think about how Mom's probably already leading Stormfly back to her stable, and how, at this very moment, Dad could be taking of Toothless's saddle. "Please," I whisper, praying I make it home before they do. "Please, please, _please._"

We emerge from the forest behind my house, but Bot does not stay hidden in the shadows like he normally does. We can hear my parents' voices and the squeak of the door being opened, and I know I only have a few seconds left before total disaster. Bot flies me up to my window, just in time for me to hear Mom call for me.

"Up here, Mom," I reply, hoping I don't sound breathless or anything.

I crawl through the window, shooing Bot back towards the forest as I hear footsteps on the stairs.

"Hey," Mom says, coming into my room. Dad follows her in but doesn't say anything.

"Hi." I smile. "How was your flight?"

"It was great," she says, walking over to me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Stormfly and I were finally able to- what's this in your hair?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, my hands flying to my head. I run my fingers through my hair trying to find what it is my Mom saw, and they brush against something small, slightly bendy and sharp.

_Oh._

It's a pine needle. I bite my lip as I pull it out, preparing a story for how it got on me while I was sitting in my room like a good little girl.

"A pine needle?" Mom sounds confused, and a little suspicious. "How on Earth did you get a pine needle in your hair?"

"Well, it was really windy before. It probably just got blown in, or something." Ugh, that sounded even lamer than in my head.

"It wasn't windy."

"Um, well, you were up pretty high, right? Maybe you were just above the wind." What am I saying? Is that even possible?

Mom doesn't say anything, sending the room into an awkward silence. I let it last for about two seconds before breaking it, asking "Where's my brush?" I'd been feeling for it on my nightstand, but it wasn't there.

"I'll get it," Mom says. Or starts to. She stops in the middle of her sentence.

"It's over on your desk," Dad tell me in a strangely serious voice.

"Why's it on my desk?" I ask to no one in particular as I walk over to it. "First my boots, now my brush. Do you guys, like, come up here and move things around while I sleep?"

I reach the desk and run my hands over the surface, finding my brush easily enough. I grab it and start to straighten out my hair, which had more than a few pine needles in it. The silence returns, and this time I leave it up to Mom and Dad to start talking.

The silence continues, but it feels far from empty. I assume that Mom and Dad are having some sort of secret conversation, not using words so that I won't know what they're talking about.

I hate it when they do that.

As I wait for them to finish their discussion, which seems to be taking forever, I wonder what they're saying to each other. If they're not speaking out loud, it's probably about me. I sigh softly, wishing that they would include me in their conversation. If it's about me, I should have some input.

Eventually, they come to a conclusion. "Kata," Dad says.

"Mmm?"

"I've got some work to do this afternoon. Why don't you and your Mom go visit your grandmother?"

I smile. My parents are actually giving me permission to leave the house! Sure, I'm only going to Grandma's and, yes, I've been more interesting places on my own, but they're showing me that they _trust me_.

"I'd love to."


	5. Four

"I can't believe I never noticed," Astrid says in a half-whisper, watching her daughter walk confidently down the stairs. She's counting them silently as she goes, mouthing the numbers as she makes her way down step by step.

"Noticed what?" Hiccup replies, looking up from the Book of Dragons, which he was busy updating.

"How much we've been underestimating her."

Hiccup follows his wife's gaze and smiles. Kata is waiting by the door, a smile on her lips as well. "When did she get so grown up?" he muses.

Kata turns her face to him. "Are you talking about me?"

Hiccup laughs, shaking his head as he smiles at his wife, who giggles as well. Kata frowns, says "You know, I _really_ don't like it when you talk about me when I'm still in the room."

"We never do that!" Astrid objects untruthfully.

"You were doing it before, too," the teen continues. "You weren't using words, so I wouldn't know what you were saying. But I still noticed."

"How?" Hiccup asks. "How could you possible know that?"

Kata shakes her head, her from turning into a small smile. "It wasn't an empty silence," she explains. "I could... feel that another conversation was going on." After years of those silents conversations, Kata had become good at reading the silences between her parents. Right now, the silence is slightly awed, and she feels quite proud.

Hiccup clears his throat, saying "We'll head out as soon as I'm finished with this."

Astrid smiles at Kata. "Are you excited to see Grandma?" she asks, cringing as she catches herself saying "see."

The expression has no effect on Kata, who nods enthusiastically. "Uh-huh!" she says. "I haven't been to Grandma's in ages!" And it's true. Her parents had taken her many times as a child, but those visits had stopped when she had grown too big to carry. Valka had, of course, come to visit them after that, but Kata missed going someplace outside of the house.

"Alright, that about does it," Hiccup proclaims, closing the book with flourish. "Ready to go?" Kata let out an excites squeal, which he took to be a yes. He opens the door for her and takes her arm. Astrid comes up on her other side, taking her other arm.

Kata takes a deep breath and presses her lips together, wishing she could tell her parents that she didn't need to be led around like this. She remembered the path to Valka's from years ago; she would only need to be told if there was something in the path that might trip her, or something she might bump into. But she knows how hard it must be for them to bring her out, to let her walk the paths even with the two of them on her arms. Someday she'll let them know that she can do this (almost) on her own, but for today, she reminds herself, baby steps.

Her parents linger in the doorway, finding it harder than they expected to take that first step. They exchange a look over their daughter's head, preparing themselves and reassuring each other.

Kata gives their arms an impatient tug. "C'mon!" she says. "Doesn't Dad have chief stuff to get to?"


	6. Five

My first authorized steps outside are great. The weather is just as nice as it was before, and I can hear the quiet splash of the ocean not too far away. I know that we'll be following the gently curving path we're on now for a minute or two before turning onto another path on the right. After that we'll turn left, than right again, then we'll be at Grandma's house, the third house on the right. It's not a long walk, but to my parents, it must seem like miles.

It starts to seem like miles to me, too, as my parents start pulling me left and right, presumably to keep me from tripping over things in the path but causing me to stumble at the sudden tug, slamming into their sides and just barely staying on my feet. If I was any less happy at the moment, I would be complaining, but I realize that my parents are finally no longer seeing me as helpless. It makes me very proud.

We're coming up on the turn we need to take, so, before Mom can yank me to the side again, I take a step ahead of my parents and turn on my own. I run through my old memories of taking this trip in Dad's arms to figure out how long we'll be walking for before we turn again and come up with a rough estimate. I remember a tree being on the corner, and that we'd always turn just after hitting the shade, so I suppose we'll do the same this time.

Dad says something that I don't quite catch. "Hmm?" I question.

"You knew where the path was," he says again.

"Oh. Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you can't see."

The question throws me for a moment. "What has that got to do with anything? I've never- oof!" -Dad pulls me to the side- "been able to see, and I've always known where the paths are. The paths to Grandma's anyway."

"How?" Mom asks, pulling me so hard I crash into her.

"I remember."

"That's not much of an explanation," she says.

"Then how do _you_ know which paths to take?"

"I _see _them."

"Yes, and you _remember_ what they look like so you know you're taking the right one."

"... I suppose so."

"So is it really so far-fetched that_ I_ remember, too?"

They're quiet for a moment, then Dad asks, "So you know the turns, but how can you be sure that you're turning onto the right path? Or any path in general?"

I roll my eyes, something I've been doing ever since Mom complained to me about how often Dad did it. "I remember," I say again, feeling that they really should be catching on by now. I feel shadows cross my face, take a step ahead, and turn.

"Remember what?"

"How long we walk before we turn."

Neither of my parents say anything, but I feel their eyes on me. We walk in silence for a minute before Dad says, "So, if we let you walk on your own, you could?"

I decide to be honest. "Um, mostly. I'd need someone to let me know is there was something in my way, but other than that, I'd probably be fine."

Another few moments of silence, then Dad slowly pulls his arm away from mine. Mom loosens her grip, too. Damn, Vikings don't do anything by halves, do they? Just this morning, Dad was freaking out about leaving me home alone, and now here he is, trusting me to walk to Grandma's mostly on my own.

I'm trying to think of how Dad is feeling right now when I hear a slightly out-of-breath voice calling "Hiccup! Hiccup!" I stop, curious.

"Hey, Fishlegs," Dad greets.

"Did something happen?" Mom asks.

I hear Fishleg's footsteps growing slowly closer. After a moment, he stops near us, panting.

"Why don't you and Kata go ahead?" Dad says to Mom.

"But-" she starts to object.

Dad silences her with a kiss on her cheek, then shoos us away. "I'll see you later," he says. I pout, wishing I could know what's going on.

-§-

Grandma is thrilled when we show up. "Kata!" she says happily, pulling me into a hug. "How wonderful to see you! You're looking more and more beautiful all the time." She runs a hand over my hair, and her voice shakes a little. Apparently, my hair is the same color as my grandfather's, so I understand why it makes her sad. "And Astrid," she says to Mom, "you look lovely. Is that a new headband?"

"Yeah," Mom says, gently pushing me further inside the house. "I had some time on my hands."

"Well, come in both of you. Sit down." She leads me over to a chair and sits me down. My my feet, I hear the quiet snuffles of a sleeping pack of Terrors. I wonder how many other dragons Grandma has in her house.

Mom comes up behind me and starts braiding my hair while she and Grandma talk. One of the Terrors climbs into my lap and I smile, stroking it's back.

We've barely been there five minutes when Dad bursts in. "Mom," he calls, "I need your help."

"Is everything alright?" she asks.

"Does this about Fishlegs earlier?" Mom voices the question I was just about to ask.

"Yeah," Dad says. "He found a dragon in the forest. Well, actually the twins found it, but he went in after them, and he said that this dragon is like nothing he's ever seen."

My blood runs cold. _Bot._ I try to calm myself down, telling myself that Dad is going to do anything to hurt him, but all I can imagine is Bot being dragged back to the village, scared out of his mind, trying to come to me for comfort but finding hulking Vikings blocking him everywhere he turns.

"I was wondering if you might come with me to take a look at it," he continues. "No one's as good with dragons as you are."

"Of course I'll come," Grandma says. "I hope the twins didn't terrorize it too badly."

"There's tons of dragons in the forest," Mom says. "What's so different about this one?"

"I'm not sure. All he said was that it obviously wasn't from Berk."

"Oh, the poor dear must be terrified," Grandma cries, and I think she must be right. Bot's not used to other Vikings, I can only imagine how scared he is.

"Be careful," Mom tell Dad as they he and Grandma head towards the door.

"I will," he reassures her, and I can't help but send out the same wish to my dragon, and hope he isn't too frightened.


	7. Six

It had been such a lovely morning, why did it all have to go so wrong? It had been bad enough when he was woken up by the two-who-were-the-same, but then the large one had come, and now here comes _more Vikings!_ Bot whines sadly, shaking ever so slightly as he tries not to let his fear get the better of them. There weren't any Vikings on his home island, and Bot's glad of that. Vikings are scary! They're so loud and big, and there are so many of them. He backs up farther, trying to hide.

He peeks out from the bush he was sleeping under, lowering his inner eyelid so his big, pink eyes won't give him away in the foliage. Unfortunately, keeping his inner lids down means that he can only see the shadowy shapes of his environment, but at the moment, it's more important to not be seen than it is to watch the intruding Vikings in great detail.

"It was under that bush, there," says the voice of the large one, and Bot can see it raise a foreleg to point at where he had been sleeping before.

The large one has two other Vikings with him, now, a female and a male. Bot can see that the male's left hind paw isn't a regular Viking paw shape, and that he smells slightly metallic. He gathers that this must be Kata's father, the Alpha Viking, of whom Kata had talked at length. He wonders if this means that the female is Kata's mother, but soon realizes that her hair is much longer than Kata had described her mother's hair to be.

The Alpha Viking drops to a crouch, looking all over the ground in front of him. "It wouldn't have stayed there after it had been found. Where do you think it went?"

The long haired one looks around, too, before nudging the Alpha Viking, whispering, "There." She points a foreleg at Bot, who thinks _Uh oh._ He leaps to his feet, crouching down so he can run at any moment. He snaps his inner lids back up so he can see in perfect clarity.

The Alpha Viking, still crouched down, shuffles over to Bot's bush. He has a fore paw extended and is whispering soothing sounds at the scared dragon. Bot quickly studies him,weighing the Viking before him with his rider's descriptions. She had often spoke of his kindness, which Bot can see shining in his big green eyes. He looks gentle and trustworthy, the kind of father his precious Viking deserves.

The long haired one drops into his line of sight as well. She is making clicking noises, similar to ones he had overheard the other dragons on the island making. He arches his back, offended at the sharp noise. On his home, the dragons chirp and warble. They do not _click!_

He lets out a low warning growl and sends a plume of blue smoke out of his nostrils. The Alpha Viking pulls back his hand, and Bot feels a little bad. He likes the Alpha Viking, and he didn't mean to make him feel bad. He just needed that awful clicking to stop!

He quickly dashes over to the nearest tree and climbs up. As soon as he is as high as the Vikings, he flips himself around so that his tail points up to the top of the tree. He fixes the long haired one with a glare and bares his teeth at her when she tries to approach him.

"Whoa," the large one whispers, staring at Bot with wonder.

"I'm guessing you've never seen anything like it," says the Alpha Viking.

"No. There's nothing like it around here, or in the Book of Dragons."

"Incredible. All my years spent living with dragons, and I've never seen one like this," the long haired one says, awestruck, and Bot hisses at her. She quiets, wondering why this dragon doesn't like her. She had spent so long living amongst them, shouldn't it recognize her as one of its own?

"It's so... bright," the Alpha Viking notices, studying Bot's vibrantly colored body. The dragon trills curiously at him, and the Alpha Viking slowly reaches out to him.

"It might be poisonous," the large one warns.

"Poisonous?" the Alpha Viking repeats, holding his paw a few inches away from Bot's nose. Bot sniffs him and smells the scent of a Night Fury. He hums a happy note. Bot likes Night Furies, but it's been a long time since he's met one. He knows the Alpha Viking rides a Night Fury, the Alpha Dragon no less, and allows himself to imagine a happy future with the Alpha Dragon taking him under his wing, teaching him how to do tricks high in the air while Bot regaled him with stories of his tropical homeland.

"The other day I was reading about these tropical islands, and the book said that there are these frogs that have really bright colors to warn the rest of the animals not to eat it. Because, you know, it's poisonous."

"I don't think it's poisonous," The Alpha Viking tells the large one, moving his paw down and closer to Bot, as if he might try to stroke his chin. Bot raises his head and takes a step up the tree. "It might be tropical, though. Look: webbed paws."

"In all my years," the long haired one half-whispers, "I've never seen a dragon with webbed paws."

"But now the question is..." The large one trails off.

"If it's from a tropical island, how did it get here?" The Alpha Viking finishes for him. "And why doesn't it leave?" He reaches into a flap on his foreleg, and pulls out a sheet of paper. He pulls a charcoal stick out of another pocket, sets the paper on the ground, and starts to draw.

Bot looks down, wondering what the Alpha Viking is drawing, until he realizes that the Viking is drawing _him._ He shrieks _no no bad don't draw!_ as he turns around and bounds up the tree. Below him, the Vikings cry for him to stop, but he doesn't listen. He spreads his wings and takes to the sky, soaring high for a minute before diving down and weaving between the tree trunks. He soon reaches the clearing, where he hides in the tall grass, hoping the Vikings don't come after him.

He doesn't want to be drawn. Kata can't see drawings. What good is a picture of Bot if Kata can't look at it? No, he will not let himself be drawn. He will hide from the Vikings and run from the Vikings and fight them off if he has to. Well, fighting might be a bit extreme, but it is important to him: if Kata cannot enjoy the drawing, Bot will not be drawn.


End file.
